Love in the Darkness
Part 1
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Rating: PG-R
Warnings: yaoi, angst, AU, alternating POV's, citrus of some kind
Additional: Over the course of the last fourteen years, I've had the privilige of meeting some of the most amazing people. I've laughed with them, cried and comforted them,
and learned more about the strength of the human spirt than two lifetimes could have taught me. This is my way of honoring those people.
The events, thoughts and feelings written about are, for the most part, true stories. Some creative licence has been taken, some events altered to fit the GW characters/universe, but the underlying story is all true life.
_blah_ = emphasis
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[Duo POV]
The war is over, has been for six months. This is supposed to be a time of peace. Supposed to be. Unless you're a Preventer. We're the keepers of the new peace. We expect small uprisings, small battles. We, more like _me_ actually, don't expect shuttles to be shot to shit from under us.
Two weeks ago, the Preventers got wind of a small cell of ex-Ozzies. If they'd been minding their own business, they could have been put on the 'watch list'. But, of course, they had to cause trouble. And the Preventers were sent in to subdue them. Part of our orders, 'by any means necessary' still rings in my ears. Intelligence reports failed to note that the happy group would resist us, and that they had a shit-load of weapons stockpiled.
They had it all, weapons-wise; land-based laser cannons, plasma grenades, and guns by fucking truckload. Both sides suffered casualties, them more than us thank God. A number of the Preventer agents assigned to this mission I didn't know, and some I'll never have to opportunity to know now. Of those I did know, most came through in one piece. The four Preventer agents that matter most to me came home alive. Breathing, but sporting a variety of injuries.
Injuries that could have been prevented if the fucking agents assigned to the case had done their fucking jobs properly! I mean, what kind of morons were these guys? They were sent out to investigate, so what did they investigate? Their ass-ends??
Okay, Duo... calm down, everyone will be alright... we, the five of us, are young, strong, tough... we've survived worse. Hell, Heero even survived self-destructing once.
But it was different then, Heero being seriously injured I mean. I hardly knew him and he barely tolerated me back then. But, somehow, in the midst of the horrors we were forced to face, we became friends. Then lovers. Who'd have guessed that me, Duo Maxwell, would fall in love with the silent, cold, seemingly unemotional boy nicknamed the Perfect Soldier? But I did. Hopelessly, totally and completely. It's not a one-sided love either; Heero loves me just as much, needs me just as much.
I close my eyes, briefly, and immediately a movie starts playing in my head. Not a good one either; it's a replay of this screwed-from-the-start assignment.
We had been piloting a shuttle across a swamp. Heero was flying since he's the best at dodging the crap the ex-Ozzies were aiming at us. Not something that's recommended, let me tell you, but we had no choice. Quatre, along with a few other agents, had been shot and we needed to get them out as fast as possible. Neither Heero or I saw the blast that hit us, but we felt it. Without safety harnesses on, man, did we feel it. I'm still thanking whatever supreme deities there are we weren't more than fifty feet off the ground.
I was thrown clear when we crashed, earning myself a small concussion, a sprained arm and ankle, and more scratches and cuts than I can count. Heero wasn't so lucky.
For what has to the be the hundredth time, I find my tired eyes straying towards the mesh-covered clock on the wall. Only five minutes, barely, has passed since I last looked. I hate hospitals. Time slows down to a crawl, moves slower than a snail does. Fuck! Where is that damn doctor?
I pace. Back and forth in front of the chairs bolted to the floor I move. The activity doesn't help, doesn't slow down my rapid heartbeat, doesn't ease the tight fist clenching my heart, or the roiling of my stomach. Where is that fucking doctor!?
Footsteps. I can hear footsteps echoing down the hallway, coming towards me. I stop my pacing, gripping my long dirt-encrusted chestnut colored braid tightly in my hand. The fast, measured-sounding strides slow as they approach the corner in front of me. If the long hank of hair in my hand weren't so pliable, it would snap in two. Right now, with all the tension running through me, I could probably bend steel bars like Heero.
At long last, a person rounds the corner. I feel my shoulders slump a little when I see who it is, who it's not.
"Maxwell." Wufei stands in front of me, strong and whole. Of the five of us, he's the least injured; the purple bruise on Wufei's forehead stand out in sharp contrast against is golden-toned skin. "Any news?"
"No, nothing yet."
"I'm sure he's fine. He's strong."
Yes, I agree silently, he's strong, yes, he's practically indestructible, but Wufei hadn't seen him. The ebony-haired boy in front of me hadn't been the one to pull Heero, unconscious, bleeding and barely breathing, from the twisted wreckage of the shuttle. I got that honor. It was one I could have lived without.
A strong arm curls around my shoulders, guiding me back to the row of uncomfortable chairs. "You need to get some sleep," Wufei informed me.
"No, not until I know how he is." Not until I can see him, or make arrangements for disposal of this body. I pray it's not going to be second one.
I need something to distract myself from the darkening of my thoughts. "How's Quatre?" The not-so-petite blonde Arabian had taken a bullet in his shoulder. It had been a clean shot, straight in and out.
A golden hand rubs tired velvet eyes and my companion slides down in his seat. "Came through surgery fine. Trowa's in with him now. He'll come get us once Quatre wakes up."
Good, at least Trowa's mate is okay. I'd hate to have Trowa going through the hell of waiting for news, good or bad, like I am. One of us is enough.
I hear footsteps again, softer than before, slower too. I tense, braid now twisting tight around my hand. Oh god, please - _please_ - let it be Sally... let it be good news for me too. I love him, I can't lose him.
"Duo?" Sally's weary voice breaks me from my silent prayers. She's not alone; an equally weary man, still dressed in surgical scrubs, stands beside her. "Duo, this is Dr. McIntyre. He performed most of the surgery on Heero."
A hand grips my fisted one, pulling apart my fingers before they can snap from the pressure. "How is he?" I want to ask if he's still alive but I can't. I don't know what I'll do if he's... gone.
"Heero's surgery went well. He had..." I don't hear anything else doctor says. All I can think about is the fact my lover, the keeper of my heart, is still alive. The gut-clenching tension and worry that's held me together, kept me functioning, is replaced by mind-numbing relief.
"Can I see him?" I think I cut the good doctor off. I don't care, not one bit. I need to see Heero, now.
Sally smiles, albeit a small, tired smile. She understands the hell I've been going through, how the waiting has been tearing me apart. "Of course. He's being transferred to a private room. You can go up in," she glances at the same mesh-covered clock I've been staring at for what feels like forever. "I'd guess, fifteen minutes. Fourth floor, room three."
"Thank you, Sally, Doctor McIntyre." Wufei verbally acknowledges the two professionals in front of us; all I can manage is a small nod. If it weren't for the strong arm that's moved from my hand to my waist, I think I'd fall down.
I let myself be guided down the hall. I'm not sure I'm really still conscious. I must look like shit too.
"You do."
Oh, guess I said that out loud. Shows you how exhausted I am. "Can we stop for a minute? I need to splash some water on my face." Most likely I needed more than that, but now is not the time, here is not the place.
The bathroom is a one-seat affair, so I'm on my own. I barely recognize the image staring back at me in the mirror. My face is covered in scratches, hair disheveled and wild, violet eyes glazed by worry and lack of sleep, and there's one hell of a bruise forming on my cheek. Add the complimentary florescent lighting and I look like death warmed over.
But I'm alive. The people I call my family are alive. Heero is alive. Thank you, God. Thank you for hearing my prayers, pitiful as they were, for listening to this murderer of men, and allowing my heart to still have reason to beat.
"Duo? You okay?"
"Yeah, out in a sec." I'm okay, or will be once I've seen Heero.
The cool water splashing on my face revives me some. I'm not going to attempt to neaten my hair; it needs more attention than simply running my fingers through it.
Wufei's leaning against the wall, waiting for me, when I finally exit the bathroom. He's tired too, but manages a smile for me before putting an arm around me again.
"Come on. Let's go find that indestructible bastard."
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With start, I jerk awake. The first thing I notice, after the initial disorientation passes, is how sore my entire being is. I don't think there's a muscle in me that isn't protesting. Sleeping in the small visitors' chair in Heero's room probably hasn't helped any either.
Heero. My eyes dart quickly to his bed. Is he awake? On stiff legs, I trundle to his bedside. The bright morning sun filtering through the lone window behind me casts its' golden rays on the battered body of the man I love. Despite being swathed in bandages, despite the bruises and cuts, Heero is still beautiful.
Beneath my hand, his is warm and slack. I can't resist the urge to raise it, bring it to my lips for a gentle kiss. A low moan answers my careful touch. Dammit, I must have woken him.
"Duo?" Heero's voice is rough from disuse and sleep. I don't doubt the tube he had stuck down his throat during his surgery also plays a role.
I place his hand back down, gently so as not to cause him any discomfort or disturb the IV lines running to and from his arm, but I don't let go. "I'm here, love. Welcome back."
Eyelids crack open as his face turns towards me. There are no words to describe the joy and relief I feel at seeing him awake. Or of the feeling of having his fingers curl around mine.
"Where am I? What happened.?"
Heero seems a bit unfocused, unaware of his surroundings. I'm surprised yet not at the same time. If I'd been knocked in the head as hard as he had been, tossed around a broken shuttle like a rag doll, then pumped full of drugs I'm sure I'd still be disoriented too.
"You're in the hospital. Do you remember the crash?"
He's silent a moment. When a small grimace crosses his face, I know he remembers.
"Hai," he grunts, trying to sit himself up. "Easy there soldier boy." My hand halts any further movement and presses him lightly back to the bed. "If you remember, then it should be pretty obvious where you are and why." I lean down, tenderly brushing my lips against his. "You're not going anywhere for a couple days."
"Hn. Baka." The endearment makes me smile and my head dips down for another taste of the lips I came close to losing. "I love you, Heero." I whisper when at long last the kiss ends.
His whispered, "Ai shiteru, koi." are the sweetest words I've ever heard.
"How are the others? Did Quatre make it?"
I want to crawl onto Heero's bed, curl up beside him and wrap him in my arms. I settle for perching beside him, his hand in my lap. "Quat's fine, Trowa's with him. Wufei's okay too. He should be back in an hour or so."
"Hn."
If I didn't know how to read Heero as well as I do, I'd have missed the small grimace of pain that skittered across his face. Now that he's awake, I bet he's feeling every bump and cut on his body despite the painkillers. I start to slide off the bed only to have my movement halted by a hand gripping my leg.
"Where are you going?"
"The nurse should know you're awake." I pat the hand attached to my leg, moving it to rest beside its owner. "I'll be right back."
"Turn on the lights on your way out."
Turn on the lights? Why should I do that. Confused, I stare down at Heero. Both his eyes are open, staring at me. With all the sunlight streaming into the room, he should be able to see me just fine. He should be... oh god. Icy fingers of fear, dread, work their way into my gut. I struggle to draw a breath, find my voice, and hope like hell it will come out normal sounding. "There's lots of light in here already, Heero."
"If you're a cat, maybe. Now turn on the lights."
The feeling of dread creeps upwards, filling me, making me colder than I've ever been before. Quietly, I move closer to Heero's bedside and raise a shaking hand. Slowly, carefully, I wave it in front of his face, watching him intently for a reaction, any reaction. Nothing. No dilation of his pupils, no involuntary tracking of the movement in front of him. It's all I can do to not cry out.
I dive for the light switch by the door. An audible click fills the room as the lights spring to life. This time, I can't keep my voice from betraying the fear in me. "How's that? Better?"
Heero grunts, clearly becoming agitated. "No. Quit fooling around, baka. Just turn the damn lights on."
A small whimper escapes me. "Heero," I whisper. "I did."
"Then they must be broken. Tell the nurse that too."
"Yeah..." Tears I can't hold back leak from behind my closed eyes. Dear god, please tell me this is temporary. He can't be, he just can't be. "Yeah, sure, Heero. I'll be right back."
I'm barely on the other side of the door, standing in the sterile, antiseptic smelling hallway, before my sobs break loose. I'm not crying for me, but for Heero.
"Maxwell?" Wufei's voice penetrates the cold fog around me, but I don't stop my tears. "Duo, what's wrong. Is Heero okay?"
I throw myself into Wufei's arms, clinging to him like a dying man. Between sobs, through a curtain of tears, I say the words I've valiantly tried not to think. "He can't see, he can't... he's blind. 'Fei, he's blind."
TBC
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